


Lonely

by lucy_in_the_sky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Author is projecting onto Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Developing Relationship, Happy Ending, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Let's all talk about our feelings, Loneliness, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, References to Depression, Steve Rogers Flirts, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, tw kinda sad thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-16 12:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21507949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucy_in_the_sky/pseuds/lucy_in_the_sky
Summary: Bucky wants one thing.At the end of the day, he only wants this one thing.To matter.He wants someone to look him in the eyes and tell him that he means something, that he has a purpose, that he belongs, that his life holds value, that he is significant, that he matters.Was that too much to ask for?-College AU in which Bucky meets Steve and feels like he could mean something after all.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 10
Kudos: 114





	Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, let's play a game called "How much of this fic is the author projecting sad feelings onto Bucky Barnes!!"
> 
> (Fun fact, the answer is a lot,,,,a lot of projection occurred here,,,)
> 
> Enjoy this short meet cute(ish) of my favorite Marvel ship :)

At the end of the day, Bucky just wanted to matter.

To anyone, really.

He wasn’t picky at this point.

He was getting tired of going about his life and having it all mean nothing. Heading to class, doing his homework, eating alone, going to class again, pretending to text someone while waiting in line for food, staying at the library until it closed; he did the same thing day after day after day.

And no one cared.

No one cared that he scored a 102% on the Bio test last week. Nor did anyone care that he just finished his application to study abroad next year. Nobody cared that he always wakes up three minutes before his alarm goes off or that he only likes tomatoes in sandwiches and never in salads or that he finally finished that one book or that he is beyond lonely. 

Because he _is_. Lonely, that is.

Bucky is beyond lonely and no one really gives a damn.

—

Bucky woke up at six thirty this morning. He showered, grabbed breakfast, did some last minute studying, then headed off to his 8 a.m., arriving, as always, with exactly six minutes to spare.

Having French so early wasn’t his plan, but he was good at it and the professor liked him because he always did his homework and never used English in class (at least that she knew of).

He took his French test with ease, finishing with plenty of time to spare and leaving class forty minutes early.

He headed to the cafeteria, ordered the same coffee drink he always did, smiled and said a quiet ‘thanks’ to his server like he always did, and left for the library like he always did.

Bucky, it seems, always does.

He went down to the silent floor of the library like he always did, sat in the section in the back by the windows like he always did, put some quiet studying music on like he always did, and tried to not be too bothered that he always does this.

He forwent lunch like he always did, headed to World Politics with several minutes to spare like he always did, raised his hand a total of zero times like he always did, then went back to the library like he only did on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Hey, everyone needs _some_ variety in their life.

—

Bucky is crushed by the weight of a meaningless life.

Living under such a burden led to the desperate need to be seen, to be heard, to be something besides a blob of flesh and blood that bumbles around pretending to matter.

He picks up trash that someone left on the ground because it gives him a modicum of purpose.

He smiles at the janitor as he passes by because it makes him feel seen.

He always fills out people’s surveys for their statistics class and he likes their photos on Instagram and he listens when someone has a story that they just _need_ to tell even if he doesn’t know them particularly well and he tries to make himself believe he deserves his place on this planet.

So when he heard someone yelling behind an academic building at one a.m. after being kicked out of the library at closing time for the fifth time that week, Bucky didn't really have to think before heading to where he heard the shouts. 

Bucky turned the corner and saw a big looking dude, probably an athlete or a fucking bodybuilder because that’s Bucky’s luck, and a scrawny kid barely standing up with blood gushing out of his nose and down his chin.

Fun.

“Hey, pick on someone your own size,” he shouted as he let his backpack fall to the ground.

The guy turned around and, whoops, he looks pissed as hell.

“Get the fuck outta here!” he yelled back to Bucky, rather unimpressed.

The kid, taking the opportunity of his attacker’s distraction, swiftly socked him in the back.

And the guy barely flinched.

Bucky started running over to them just as the guy turned back around and got a few good licks in.

Bucky had never really been a fighter, but he trusted his natural instincts and assumed he’s doing something right when the guy lets out a grunt as Bucky’s fist connected with the dude’s jaw.

He pushed the stick-of-a-man behind him and dodged a swing at his face, really regretting his insistence of helping out whenever he can.

The big dude got a few hits on Bucky’s ribs, but he was unprepared for the swift uppercut that Bucky somehow pulled out of his ass.

The man grunted and swung back, but this time Bucky was too slow to dodge the hit at his cheek.

Grabbing his face for a second, Bucky kicked the man and was surprised that he actually connected with his leg, right on his knee.

He stumbled back a few steps and glared at the two other men.

“Fine, don’t know why you’d give a fuck ‘bout that pussy, but I have better shit to do,” he spat at the ground in front of the smaller kid and sauntered away.

Bucky rolled his eyes and turned back to the dude whose ass he just saved only to be shoved into the wall behind him.

“What was that for?” the man asked him incredulously. Almost as if he hadn’t been seconds away from getting the ever loving shit kicked out of him.

“What? Me saving your ass?” Bucky said as he wiped away a small trail of blood from his lip.

“I had ‘im on the ropes,” the kid mumbled as he assessed his own wounds, wincing when he found a tender spot on his ribs.

“Yeah, alright, punk, whatever you say,” Bucky smirked, hands up as he conceded.

“No, really, I was winning!” the guy said, louder this time as Bucky began to walk away.

“Sure, buddy, I believe ya,” Bucky picked up his backpack and swung it over one shoulder, glancing back to see the scandalized look on the kid’s face.

“Hey, I really―oh _fuck_ , shit,” 

Bucky turned around to see the guy doubled over, hand clutching his ribs.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky rushed back to his side.

The guy held up his hand as if to stop Bucky from approaching, but Bucky promptly ignored him and went to help him stand up straight.

He looked closer and saw a deep cut on his lip, probably where all the blood was coming from.

“I’m fine, Jesus Christ, just a little sore,” he grunted.

“Yeah, okay, well you have blood running down your face and some pretty nasty scrapes on your hands so I’m gonna go ahead and not believe you,” Bucky shifted his body to be able to support the other man.

“No, no, I’m good, man, I’m fine,” 

“Buddy, you look like you can barely stand on your own,” 

He looked like he was about to say something but closed his mouth and nodded slightly instead.

Smart move.

“My place is right across the street. Roommate's gone this weekend so don’t haveta worry ‘bout him,” Bucky started walking toward his apartment, helping support probably more than half the other guy’s wright.

“‘Kay, thanks,” he winced. “‘m Steve, by the way,”

“Bucky,”

The other guy―Steve―snorted.

“Bucky? Sounds like a name a kid would give his stuffed animal,”

Bucky huffed but he had to agree.

“It’s a nickname from my sister, kinda stuck,”

“I like it,” Steve grinned, “Bucky, B- _u_ -cky, Buck- _y_ ” he tested out.

“Alright, pal,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

They were quiet the rest of the way to Bucky’s off campus apartment that he shared with his sorta-friend Clint. They’d met last year in class and both silently agreed that they’d room together their sophomore year.

Once they reached the apartment, Bucky directed Steve to the bathroom as he grabbed the first aid kit from the kitchen. Luckily Clint was a huge dumbass and got hurt at least twice a week so Bucky was well versed in how to tend to surface wounds.

He headed back to the bathroom and saw Steve sitting on the toilet seat, looking sheepish. 

“Thanks, uh, for the help back there,” he whispered as Bucky approached.

“No problem,” he responded.

Bucky smiled as he opened the kit and got out the Neosporin and some bandaids.

He squatted down and started cleaning the worst of the blood, trying to be as gentle as possible.

Steve was relatively quiet as Bucky patched him up, only letting out a few winces when Bucky cleaned out some of his worse cuts.

As he put a bandaid on the last of Steve’s scratches on his hand, Bucky looked up at Steve, squeezed his hand, and stood back up.

“Thanks. Again,” Steve let out a self-deprecating huff.

“Like I said,” Bucky glanced at Steve as he put back the first aid items and threw away the bandaid wrappers, “it was no problem, just, ya know, glad I could help,” 

Steve hopped up and wrung his hands together.

“Well, thanks, uhm, I should get going then,”

They both walked out of the bathroom toward the rest of the house.

“You good getting back to your place?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah, I’m in Shiley so it’s not that far,” 

“Gotcha,” Bucky closed the cabinet door and joined Steve at the front door.

“Thanks, again, I owe you a big one,” Steve grinned and pointed awkward finger guns at Bucky who laughed and explained again how it was no problem.

“Alright, see ya ‘round,” Steve said as he shut the door behind him.

Bucky might have uttered a quick ‘yeah’ or ‘ok’ but he couldn’t remember. He was too busy thinking about that was probably the longest time he’d spent with someone not in an academic setting since summer break.

—

Bucky woke up to his alarm blaring at eight in the morning.

Why he set an alarm for Saturday? He’s not quite sure.

As he moved to shut the damn thing off, he suddenly remembered the interaction with the scrawny kid, Steve.

“Right, Steve, ass kicking, hmm,” he mumbled to the empty room.

He must have been so distracted by the encounter that he unconsciously set the alarm.

Good going, Buckaroo.

But alas, he felt too awake now and also kinda hungry so he rolled (very literally) out of bed and promised himself pancakes as a reward for being up so early on the weekend.

After shrugging on some skinny jeans and a hoodie, Bucky grabbed his phone, wallet, keys, and jacket then headed out the door.

The cafeteria was kind of a walk from where the apartment was, but the pancakes lured him there rather than stale cereal from the apartment or something from the grab-n-go stand at which he usually ate.

Once inside the caf, he started for the line, but was stopped when someone called out his name.

“Hey, Bucky!” 

He turned to see the kid from last night, Steve, walking through the door, wearing a coat that was at least three sizes too big for him and a quirky smile.

“Steve, hey,” Bucky replied, rather surprised that he’d run into Steve this soon after their encounter.

Steve had a deep purple bruise on his chin and a split lip, but he otherwise looked patched up rather nicely.

He walked with Bucky to the food line and got out his ID card.

“I’m buying,” he informed Bucky, “I owe you for last night,”

“Nah, you don’t owe me, it was nothing,”

Steve poked Bucky’s cheek where, apparently, he had a nasty bruise, because Jesus, that hurt.

As Bucky hissed and swatted away Steve’s hand, Steve chuckled and raised his eyebrows as if to ask if Bucky would still pretend it was no big deal.

“Fine, fine, thanks,” Bucky conceded with a smile.

Steve smirked and then ordered two plates of pancakes for them, paying and getting out of line.

“How did you know I was gonna order pancakes?” Bucky asked as they headed to the grill station.

“It’s Saturday morning, it would be illegal to eat anything else,” Steve shrugged playfully. 

“Plus,” Steve added, “I feel bad for getting you into my mess so I wanted to treat you,” he handed Bucky a plate of golden pancakes and started toward the toppings bar.

“Thanks,” Bucky laughed as he followed him to put way too much sugar on the already sweet breakfast.

“Meeting anyone here?” Steve asked. 

“Uh, no, was just gonna eat, uhm, alone,” Bucky tired not to blush too hard.

“Same here, by buddy, Sam, he’s on a retreat with the rowing team this weekend,” Steve explained as he ushered Bucky into a corner booth in the back of the cafeteria.

Apparently they were eating together now.

“Oh, yeah, my roommate Clint is on the rowing retreat too,” 

“That’s cool! I’ve been to a couple practices just to watch and they really work their asses off,” 

“Yeah, Clint is always complaining about how hard it is, but this is his second year on the team and he made Varsity this semester so I guess he can’t hate it that much,” Bucky trailed off at the end of the sentence, realizing Steve didn’t care about what he had to say about his roommate’s rowing experience.

“Yeah, Sam did it in high school so he made Varsity last semester and he’s, like, always busy either actually at practice or training for practice,” Steve takes a bite of his food, “but he really loves it so he doesn’t mind the work,” he finished through the pancake in his mouth.

Bucky chuckled and ate more of his own breakfast.

“So, you and Clint are close?” Steve questioned.

Bucky was taken aback by the question. 

“Uh, not really, we just were in sociology together last year and we did all the projects together so it, uh, made sense for us to room together ‘cause we knew we got along well enough and he didn’t wanna live with his rowing friends ‘cause most of ‘em are too messy or whatever,” he rambled.

“Ok, yeah, makes sense,” 

Bucky made eye contact with his pancakes and hoped Steve would choose a new subject.

“Sam and I are roommates along with our other friend, Tony, he’s kind of a dick but sometimes he’s super cool, so we put up with him,” he smiled.

Bucky forced a laugh and cleared his throat, still feeling kind of on the spot.

“What’s you major,” he asks to get Steve off the topic of friends.

“Art History and Political Science double major,” Steve replied immediately, not off put by the abrupt subject change. “You?”

“Engineering, focus on aerospace,”

“Dude, that’s so cool!” Steve seemed genuinely interested.

“Uh, yeah, it’s really fun. I’m starting upper division psychics and engineering courses so it’s cool to get deep into the subject,” he explained with a smile.

“I bet,” Steve nodded, “I’m in upper division art classes so that’s fun, and I’m finishing my last prereq poly sci class this semester so I’m looking forward to diving into more niche classes,” 

Their conversation flowed easily from there and Bucky couldn’t help the flutter in his chest at being listened to, not just heard.

They had no issue finding something to talk about. It seemed like they shared the same interest in everything.

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he was so comfortable with someone he’d just met.

Maybe this is a first for him.

They finished eating and slowly moved to put their dishes in their designated tubs and walk outside.

“Well, I really enjoyed seeing you again,” Steve smiled, “could I maybe get your number?”

Bucky stopped. 

Was Steve asking-his-number-as-a-friend or was he asking-his-number-as-a- _more_ -than-friend?

He kinda (definitely) wanted it to be the latter.

“Yeah, yeah definitely,” he pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened it to the contact screen, passing it over to Steve with a blush that he was not proud of.

He looked away as Steve typed his name and number into Bucky’s phone, trying to quell his hopes in case Steve just wanted to be friends.

“Here,” Steve passed the phone back, “I texted myself, too, so I have your number now,” 

Bucky nodded and put his phone in his jeans pocket.

“Well, I have a shitton of work to do for my printmaking class so I should probably start that,” Steve said rather reluctantly.

“Ok, yeah, I should do some work, too,” Bucky said as he rubbed his neck.

“Text you later?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, definitely,” Bucky grinned.

Steve flashed a bright smile and gave him a thumbs up.

“I’ll see you later, Buck,” he said as he walked toward the dorms.

“Yeah, see ya, Steve,” Bucky responded, unable to wipe the silly grin off his face.

He shook his head and started toward his apartment, thinking through the interaction they just had.

“ _Shit_ ,” he whispered reverently.

He hasn’t felt this good since stepping onto campus last year as a wide eyed and bushy tailed freshman with big dreams about his college experience.

Once he got back to his apartment, he shrugged off his jacket and grabbed his phone from his pocket, debating if it was too early to text Steve.

He opened the messages app and gasped.

Steve had put the winking kissing emoji next to his name.

Now, Bucky didn’t want to read into anything just in case, but that was a little too obvious to be overlooked.

He let out a sharp laugh and felt his face heat up.

As he debated what to text Steve, he noted how happy he felt.

He had let someone in, given them access to his life, and that person was genuinely interested in what Bucky had to offer.

He let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding in, feeling tears prick at his eyes.

He felt a little silly to be worked up after such a small encounter but he couldn’t deny how much Steve’s presence lessened his dread of loneliness.

He had felt utterly invisible for a long time.

And it felt really nice to be seen.


End file.
